


Say My Name and Everything Just Stops

by ViolettaValery



Series: An Indentation in the Shape of You [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Dom Alex Manes, Dom/sub, Edging, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Kink Negotiation, Light Spanking, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Orgasm Control, Outdoor Sex, Overstimulation, POV Michael Guerin, Phone Sex, Photo Shoots, Praise, Self-Worth Issues, Spatulas, Sub Michael Guerin, Subspace, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-07 06:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20305306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolettaValery/pseuds/ViolettaValery
Summary: After their impromptu first scene, Michael and Alex discover just how perfectly they fit together and decide to continue their D/S arrangement and see where it takes them. Even if that's far from just an arrangement and well into the realm of the heart...Sequel to "Left Your Mark on Me, A Golden Tattoo"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you as always to jess for her endless enthusiasm, grasonas and knownochill for the spatula-shaped encouragement/threats, and the rest of my Roswell fam for motivation and cheerleading. 
> 
> Lightly inspired by Tasyfa's Queen Street at Night and its portrayal of kink. 
> 
> The BDSM relationship portrayed here is healthy and consensual for the most part, even if Michael occasionally struggles with knowing where to draw the line of how much to give. There's explicit negotiation, and safe, sane, and consensual scenes. In short, it's a far cry from my Malex darkfic (Baby doll, when it comes to a lover...) It's written based on both my own experiences in the kink community as well as research on the subject. 
> 
> I hope to post about a chapter a day, and there'll be 4 or 5. I've finished writing the entire fic, and it just needs a final edit/polish, as well as a readthrough and ok from my beta.

“If you want to keep doing this, we’ll need to discuss boundaries and expectations,” Alex had quite reasonably pointed once Michael surfaced. “Perhaps at The Bunker?”

“You want to discuss the details of fucking me in public?” Michael asked incredulously.

“I want to negotiate in a place where we won’t give in to temptation before the negotiations are over,” Alex corrects, and fuck, he has a point. Just  _ looking  _ at Alex sends his mind to sinful places. “I know the place. We can get a table in the back, where no one will hear us.”

Which is how Michael finds himself dressing for something that feels like a date. He wants Alex to want him – to  _ keep  _ wanting him – so he takes particular care as he chooses his outfit. He rarely overthinks it when going to photoshoots – he’ll be taking his own clothes off anyway – but now he goes with the cowboy aesthetic that’s been his go-to look since his late teens. He polishes his belt buckle and pulls on his favorite pair of dark-wash jeans, and throws a leather jacket over a shirt whose buttons he only bothers to do up halfway. Not that it’s anything Alex hasn’t seen before, and a thrill goes through Michael as he remembers just how much of him Alex  _ has _ seen.

Cowboy boots and hat finish off the look, and he considers himself in the mirror. He looks  _ good,  _ though it’s weird trying to impress Alex with the clothes he’s wearing when Alex knows exactly what they’re hiding.

The Bunker is a quiet place tucked next to a queer bookstore, and Michael wonders if it’s intentional. Belying its name, copious plants span the tall windows, and soft music comes from a tinny speaker. 

Michael spots Alex immediately at a table in the back, and another thrill goes through him. Alex looks  _ good.  _ He’s paired dark skinny jeans with a red sweater and leather jacket, while his hair is just on the right side of messy. And, fuck, he’s wearing an earring in his left lobe, while rings adorn his lithe fingers.

Michael exhales nervously. It’s definitely good they’re having this conversation somewhere public, even if he ends up needing to take a very embarrassing walk home and a very cold shower after.

“Hey,” he greets.

Alex raises an eyebrow at his getup. Michael shrugs. “Grew up working on a ranch,” he explains. “It stuck.”

“And here I thought it was just for me,” Alex quips.

“What, you’ve got a secret cowboy kink that you think I somehow found out about?”

“Well, yes,” Alex admits. “To the kink, at least.”

Michael settles in, sprawling in his chair, and doesn’t miss the way Alex’s eyes follow the lines of his body. “Happy to provide.”

“So,” Alex begins when they both have their coffees. “I admit, I usually do the negotiations before trying anything. You were an exception.”

“You saying I was a temptation you couldn’t resist?” Michael asks. It’s so easy to flirt with Alex, the words practically roll off his tongue on their own, absolutely ignoring the voice of reason that tells him he needs a clear head for this part.

And then Alex flirts  _ back.  _ “The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it,” he offers, meeting Michael’s gaze head-on.

Michael clears his throat and shifts. He can’t be getting turned on yet; they haven’t even  _ started. _

He definitely is, though.

Alex, thankfully, seems to be much better at maintaining a clear head. He sobers, letting the flirtatious smile slip of his face. “In all seriousness, Michael, you should know that this is not how I normally approach kink. Yesterday, I felt we had a moment of something truly special, and I wanted to pursue it to see where it led. But moving forward, we should establish firm boundaries before engaging in any activities, so that both parties know exactly what to expect.”

“I kinda prefer it when I don’t know what to expect,” Michael admits. “Like, you know exactly what’s coming and I have  _ no _ idea and it’s – “ a lot of words could go here.  _ Really hot  _ comes to mind, and he shifts in his chair as he remembers just  _ how  _ hot it had been when he had no idea what Alex would tell him to do next.  _ Exhilarating. Mindblowing. Exactly what I need. _

“Perhaps we might start with what you like, then,” Alex offers. “So we’re both on the same page about what I  _ might  _ do, but you don’t know exactly what it will be.”

Michael sighs. This part never seemed to get any easier.

“I’m pretty sure you know what I like,” he says flippantly. It’s a shitty thing to say. He knows it’s not fair to Alex, but the defensive instinct is almost impossible to resist.

Alex considers him silently. His gaze isn’t particularly piercing, but Michael still finds himself wanting to curl up into a ball.

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m not good at this part.”

“Let me begin, then,” Alex offers. “You enjoy submitting and doing what you’re told.” Michael snorts at the obviousness of the statement, but Alex continues, undeterred. “You want to be good for me, but you need clear rules to follow so you can accomplish that. You like being praised when you succeed. You like being touched, and you enjoy delayed gratification. Am I correct so far?”

Michael stares. He thinks Alex might be a freaking mind reader. Or maybe he’s some kind of demon, beautiful as sin and who can see into the very desires of his heart.

“Not necessarily the last one,” he corrects. “I mean, I don’t hate it, but I liked it because it was what you wanted. There’s pretty much nothing I haven’t tried, honestly, and I like most things, but it’s you wanting them that makes it really good.”

“You really are a buried treasure,” Alex says, his voice going soft and awed, and Michael feels the heat creeping up the back of his neck.

“If you say so,” he deflects.

“Yes. I’m really quite lucky. And I want to make this good for you. So, is there anything else you like, that you want to tell me about?”

Michael worries at his lip, hesitating. But Alex has been nothing but accepting so far, has given Michael exactly what he wanted without question, so he takes a leap.

“I like being used,” he admits to the sugar bowl on their table. “But, uh, I’m not really good with knowing what my boundaries are with that. I just want to give everything, even when I should probably say no.” He shrugs, still talking to the sugar bowl. “I guess that’s why other doms didn’t really know what to do with me. They didn’t know how far to push. Or it freaked them out, how far they could go.”

“So you like going into a scene with no idea what to expect, willing to give almost anything, but you struggle with where the boundaries of that lie,” Alex summarizes succinctly. “I can see why it might have been a challenge. Fortunately, I like challenges.”

Michael drags his eyes from the sugar bowl to Alex’s face. His eyes are glittering with excitement, like Michael has offered him a dare he  _ knows  _ he’ll win.

Michael lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Good,” he manages.

Alex smiles warmly at him.

“Tell me about the limits you do know about.”

“I’m not fond of pain or humiliation,” he says, which is an understatement. He was all too familiar with it growing up to enjoy it. It didn’t help that it’s also thrown a wrench in the works anytime he tried to submit: it had conditioned him all too well to just take it, accept what was being done to him without protest. “I mean, maybe a bit of pain to add an edge, but that’s all,” he adds.

“I don’t particularly enjoy inflicting either,” Alex agrees. “What about being restrained?”

“Uh.” His mind flashes back to when he was thirteen, Latin chanting filling the room as a cross was burned into his forearm. “I like the idea, in theory. I’ve just never been  _ able  _ to,” he stresses, willing Alex to understand.

“Something we might explore in the future, then,” Alex says lightly.

“You don’t want to know why?” he asks.

“Your reasons are yours. I don’t have to know them. Just like I have my reasons for needing control, but you don’t need to know them to obey me. The only part I’d ask you to share are any triggers that might potentially affect our scenes.”

“None that I know of.”

They go over a few other minute and logistical details as they finish off their coffees. “Are you all right with the standard safewords,” Alex asks, “or do you have your own that you’d prefer to use?”

“The standard ones are fine.” They’ve always been yet another form of structure, a set of rules that had been around since before Michael had learned what being a sub even meant. Meddling with them had never felt right.

“That leaves one final thing,” Alex says, and Michael’s stomach does a small somersault, because it seems like they’ve covered everything. Exhaustively. It feels like the most titillating exam of his life. 

“I wanted to talk about exclusivity. When I have an arrangement with someone, I prefer to be exclusive to them. I like being able to focus all of my attention on their needs, without the distraction of other potential commitments,” Alex says, and Michael tries and fails to imagine what it must be like to be on the receiving end of Alex’s entire attention. Butterflies somersault in his stomach at the thought. “I’m certainly not going to have the kind of scene we had yesterday with any of my models, and not just because that’s frowned upon in workplace environments. But,” and he pauses here for emphasis. “I certainly wouldn’t ask the same of you this early in our arrangement. You are under no obligation to be faithful to me, either sexually or kink-wise, and from where I stand, you are free to engage in any activities you see fit.”

Michael wants to interrupt and say that he’d be happy to give Alex anything he asked, including exclusivity _ .  _ He longs desperately to _ give,  _ and he wants even more so to be enough for the man who has vowed to be with no other than him. But Alex hasn’t  _ asked,  _ and nothing hurts more than being rejected in his entirety, so he nods and says nothing despite the overwhelming connection he can feel thrumming between them even now. 

“That’s settled, then,” Alex says, with a satisfied sort of finality. “Give me a few days to come up with a scene. Then I’ll text you.”

“You asking for my number, Manes? Cause you can  _ definitely  _ have it.”

“Yes, Guerin, asking for your number is a  _ huge  _ step in our relationship. Right after having my dick in your mouth.”

Michael inhales coffee through his nose. They’d actually managed to have this entire conversation without getting too explicit, and clearly, Alex couldn’t let that stand. He only looks mildly contrite as he watches Michael sputter and try to blow the coffee out of his nose.

“Fuck, Alex, you’re going to be the death of me,” he says.

Alex’s face is impossibly smug. “Yes. But at least you’ll enjoy it.”

Michael is proud that he only very,  _ very  _ briefly considers dragging Alex out into an alleyway and sucking his dick then and there. Instead, he pulls out his phone and hands it wordlessly to Alex.

...

Over the next few days, Alex texts to check in.  _ How are you feeling?  _ And  _ Any depression or anxiety?  _ And  _ If you’re feeling subdrop, you can always text or call. _

But Michael feels great. He feels better than he’s felt in a  _ long  _ time.

Then  _ the  _ text comes.

_ Are you free this weekend? _

He briefly debates telling Alex he’ll have to check before being able to  _ pencil him in,  _ but in the end, sends a simple  _ Yes. _

_ I have a scene in mind. _

_ You going to give me a hint about what it involves, to tide me over? _

_ It’ll be very similar to what we already did, but also entirely different ;)  _ Alex writes back, which tells Michael absolutely  _ nothing.  _ Which, he realizes, is precisely what Alex intended, and his skin thrums with anticipation.

It’s going to be a long three days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the enthusiasm towards the first chapter! I know an entire chapter of negotiations might feel like a slow start, so hopefully this chapter makes up for your patient waiting.

He lets himself in with the key Alex has left under the rug and follows his directions to undress. Leaving his clothes in a neat pile by the door, he follows the corridor to the living room. 

Alex’s apartment is neat and modern, white walls and natural light falling over sleek surfaces. Photos adorn the walls – a couple of his own, as well as others that Michael himself has frequently admired. There’s also what looks like a bar for pullups in the doorway, and a set of weights in a row by the wall. 

And on the couch, Alex sprawls, dressed from head to toe, and he suddenly feels very, very naked. He’s never particularly minded being naked, but now as Alex rakes his eyes appreciatively over what Michael knows is, objectively, a fairly pleasing body, he feels once again like a nervous freshman, dropping his robe for the first time for a group of equally anxious art students. 

As always, Alex looks good – somehow pristine and polished despite his messy head of hair. His hands rest on his thighs, his long, elegant fingers ringless, and Michael hopes maybe that means he’ll get to know those fingers better.

He moves instinctively, coming to kneel between Alex’s spread legs.

“Did you touch yourself, since last time?” Alex asks.

Michael shakes his head.

“Why not?”

“I mean, you did say delaying gratification makes it better.”

“But that’s not the only reason,” Alex says. It’s not a question.

“No,” Michael agrees. “It felt wrong, somehow, to do it without your permission. And I wanted to be good for you.”

He should probably be terrified by how much power he’s handing over to Alex so promptly, but the only thing he’s afraid of is how much he  _ wants  _ to.

“You really are a treasure,” Alex says in the same awed voice he used in the cafe, and Michael’s eyelashes flutter. Alex’s hand comes to rest in his curls, tipping his head up so he can gaze up at Alex through those lashes. He feels the first hints of that gentle floating feeling that fills him when he obeys and is told he’s good.

“But perhaps, in the future, you should let me tell you what I want, rather than trying to guess.”

Michael nods.

“Hey.” Alex’s hand cards through his hair softly. “I’m not angry or upset. But I want to make this good for you. You like to  _ give,  _ so let me tell you what to give. Let me tell you how to be good for me.”

Michael only barely stops himself from saying  _ Anything you want.  _ A breathless “yes” is what he manages instead.

Alex pulls him up gently by the curls – he thinks he might make a sound not unlike a purr in response – to kiss him, pressing Michael’s naked body against his clothed one. It’s impossibly erotic, the press of the crisp cotton and rough denim against his skin sending shivers of arousal through him. His body feels entirely Alex’s like this, like it exists only  _ for  _ him.

Their kiss is careful and controlled, an invitation and the promise of more to come.

“Go kneel for me,” Alex instructs.

Michael turns his head and notices for the first time the soft blanket spread over the rug on the floor, with a cushion and a bottle of lube on it. He makes his way over and kneels, facing Alex.

“No, turn around,” Alex says. From the couch, he instructs until Michael is on all fours, his head hanging as he leans on his elbows and his ass in the air. He waits, wondering if Alex will come over and finally touch him, finally put those beautiful long fingers in him and make him keen with pleasure –

“Open yourself for me,” Alex says instead, and Michael gives a small whine of protest. When Alex says nothing in response, he pops open the bottle of lube, smearing it on his fingers and reaching back. He’s done this for Alex before, and he wonders if that’s what Alex meant by the  _ very similar to what we already did  _ part.

It’s not the most comfortable of positions; objectively, it’s awkward as hell, but Michael has always been blessed with a copious helping of not giving a shit. And any small amount of fucks he might have given about fucking himself on his fingers as a dude he barely knows watches promptly fly out as Alex starts to talk again, a continuous string of praise and compliments as he inserts one, two, and then three fingers. Then a fourth, because he’s seen the size of Alex’s dick.

He sinks into a profound sense of calm with each word. His arm gets sore, his hand starts to cramp, and his dick is fucking hard, but all those things seem like afterthoughts. He’s doing Alex asked them to, and his world narrows down to his own fingers inside his hole. He barely hears the floor creak as Alex rises and walks over to him.

“Touch yourself,” Alex says as he kneels, and Michael hears the clink of a buckle.  _ Finally,  _ some small, still-active part of his mind thinks.

He does, starting out as he did last time with teasing touches to the tip, then slow strokes that gradually speed up.

He keeps going for what seems like eternity, and Alex says nothing. He’s  _ so close,  _ and still Alex says nothing, and he tenses up, preparing to be stopped, to be denied just as he’s on the edge. But Alex says nothing, and Michael panics. Should he have stopped? Should he keep doing what he’s doing?

“Keep going,” Alex encourages, soft and soothing. “Come for me whenever you’re ready.”

His words open a dam, and Michael lets go, releases the need and the arousal of the past week as Alex’s hand comes to rest on his flank, rubbing up and down soothingly as he shakes through his orgasm. It’s not as good as the first one Alex gave him, but he’d still rank it somewhere around number two on his top ten list. 

Then it’s over, and he blinks, and realizes that he’s come, and Alex has barely touched him, and Alex is probably still hard behind him, and –

Then Alex’s fingers brush over his hole, followed by his cock doing the same, teasing.

_ Holy shit,  _ Michael realizes just as Alex sinks into him.

Alex’s hand moves from his flank to his hip, keeping him still as they both adjust. Then Alex starts to  _ move,  _ and Michael gasps. Alex inside him feels just right; it’s so good, the angle just perfect. It’s how sex  _ should  _ feel, and his dick attempts valiantly to harden in response. But he’s spent, and it only throbs uselessly, reminding him that he can’t take pleasure in this, he can only let Alex  _ use  _ him. Which turns him on even more, sending more waves of arousal to his obstinate dick, an endless feedback cycle that sends him spiraling down, down, into that place only Alex has ever really managed to take him to. There, even the arousal itself becomes an afterthought as he sinks into being utterly, completely Alex’s, whose words of praise become more breathless, interspersed with the rhythmic slap of skin on skin.

He’s so far in that quiet place in his head that he barely notices when Alex comes with a grunt and stills. Alex’s hand remains on his side as he pulls out, disposing of the condom and coaxing Michael toward him. He forces his sore muscles to move, collapsing in a heap on the blanket with Alex beside him. Alex pulls another blanket over them and presses kisses to his shoulder and his hand finds Michael’s curls again.

“Mhmm,” he says sleepily, his eyes already closing.

Aftercare becomes as much his favorite part as the scenes themselves. Before, it’d just been a necessity as he surfaced, but now, as he curls up on the couch after their scenes, his head in Alex’s lap as gentle hands stroke him and card through his hair, he feels like he fits. He feels light and comfortable, and he babbles about astrophysics and engineering. He doesn’t need most of his brain to describe the simpler concepts, and Alex always listens, rapt, and asks insightful questions. Michael tells him about how time passes more slowly the faster you’re going, about the mathematical impossibility of faster-than-light travel, about the difficulty of reconciling relativity and quantum mechanics. He tells Alex about how he still keeps up with the major scientific journals, and how he’s even published a few articles on theoretical physics, and basks in Alex’s impressed expression. And, occasionally, he tells Alex about his job, the photoshoots he’s doing, the photographers he’s working with, the magazines and galleries where they’re being displayed.

In return, Alex tells him about enlisting for the Air Force right out of high school, following in the tradition of his family. He doesn’t mention his father or brothers after that, though, and Michael doesn’t ask. He talks about being a codebreaker, hacking Russian and Chinese intelligence, though the concrete details are sparse (“if I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Alex tells him lightly, and Michael has no doubt that he  _ could _ ). He tells Michael about quantum computing and encoding information using the quantum states of particles, and Michael latches on excitedly, until aftercare turns into a heated discussion of the possibilities and likelihood of widespread applications. It’s only when Michael asks why Alex left the Air Force and took up photography that his face becomes very carefully blank. “My enlistment period was at the end, and I wanted to try something that was both art and science,” he explains. “Photography seemed like a good fit.”

Today, Michael is telling Alex excitedly about how the stars are so distant, the light from them taking so long to reach earth, that looking through a hypothetical telescope at the planets surrounding them would be like looking into the distant past.

“So if a galaxy far, far away really existed, we might be able to look through our telescope and see what happened a long time ago?” Alex ventures.

“Yeah, actually,” Michael says. 

“Who knew  _ Star Wars _ was actually a documentary?” he asks, and Michael laughs, the sound almost masking the loud rumbling of his stomach.

“Hungry?” Alex asks.

“A bit.”

“Michael, when’s the last time you ate?”

“Uh.” He tries to remember, but before the scene today he’d gotten caught up in reading an article in  _ Science,  _ and he thinks he might’ve not have eaten anything since last night. “Probably yesterday?”

“I’d be remiss as a dom if I didn’t feed you, then,” Alex says. “Come on, up. Into the kitchen.”

Michael ambles after him, not bothering with clothes, though he does don the apron Alex hands him. He looks incredulously at the words on them.  _ Kiss the cook.  _ Looks back at Alex and pointedly raises an eyebrow.

Alex rolls his eyes but pulls him in for a swift kiss. “Happy?” he asks.

“Mmm,” Michael murmurs in agreement and tries to chase Alex’s lips again, but Alex has backed away and started taking out the ingredients for pancakes and bacon. “Breakfast for dinner?” he offers, and Michael’s ready to hand him the key to his soul right then.

Michael happily mixes the pancake batter under Alex’s instructions as Alex putters around, finding pans and cutlery. Cooking has never been this calming; he likes  _ precision,  _ and every cookbook he’s ever read suggested he add things “to taste,” which drove him nuts. But Alex tells him exactly what to do better than any cookbook, his instructions a balm on Michael’s soul as always.

He sees out of the corner of his eye as Alex takes a spatula out of a drawer, but the rest of his movement is too swift, and Michael only realizes what’s happened once he feels the sting on his ass.

He drops the whisk into the batter and clutches the counter as all the air leaves his lungs in one fell swoop. He goes down faster than a skydiver with a faulty parachute. 

“Michael?” Alex’s voice is concerned. “Are you all right?”

He can only swallow and nod.

“Living room. Now.”

He precedes Alex to the living room, where the remnants of their last scene are scattered over the floor. “Kneel. Now.” Michael thinks he might not be the only one barely clinging to control, considering the way Alex can’t even form complete sentences to give orders.

He drops to the floor and gets onto his hands and knees. Alex’s hand finds his side and rests where he can feel the rise and fall of Michael’s labored breaths.

The sting comes again, on his other buttock. It doesn’t really hurt much; he’d barely call it pain, but Alex inflicting it sends him spiraling down, down, down.

Alex rubs his ass where the sting is fading. “Oh, your skin reddens so beautifully, Michael,” he says, voice warm and liquid, and Michael wants to crumple then and there, fall the rest of the way to the floor and lie in a pile of ooze as Alex leaves more marks on him.

“Yours,” he mutters absently, all his energy concentrated on keeping his limbs from going liquid and giving out beneath him.

Alex hits what feels like every inch of his ass, until he’s sure it’s red as an actual cherry. It tingles everywhere, a pleasant reminder of the sting. Alex’s hand touches him after every handful of blows, a light and admiring touch, and Michael shoves his ass toward him every time to offer  _ more. _

“You might actually be the death of me.” Alex’s voice sounds as strangled as Michael feels.

Michael just rests his head on his forearms and shoves his ass further in the air. Alex makes a strangled sound and Michael hears the clink of a belt unbuttoning, nothing slow and measured above it. Alex doesn’t tease him with the sound of his pants unzipping slowly or the button popping open; it sounds like he’s scrambling to free his cock as quickly as possible.

He’s still open and ready from their last scene, and if he wonders if Alex will part his ass cheeks and sink in; whether the heat of Alex’s body against his own overheated skin will be too much; he holds himself very very still. But he hears the telltale sound of a hand on skin without feeling Alex’s on his; the next second, he realizes Alex is stroking himself, fast and desperate and uncontrolled.

He whines, his own cock heavy between his legs.

Alex just speeds up, and a few seconds later, Michael feels the splash of come on his skin. Alex comes all over his ass, painting the redness of his skin white, and Michael grabs for his own cock with a moan; Alex doesn’t protest when he strokes himself, fast and needy, doesn’t chide when Michael comes all over his hand.

They collapse alongside each other and try to catch their breath.

“Holy shit,” Michael offers finally.

“Mmm,” is all Alex says.

“Alex? Alex, did I break you?”

Alex snorts. “Almost. And now I don’t have a spatula to flip pancakes with.”

Michael chuckles. “Worth it, though.”

“Most definitely,” Alex agrees.

They burst into a fit of giggles that continues unabated for a good long while. Every time one of them feels like he’s caught his breath, the other will let out another giggle, and it’ll set them both off again. Alex’s face is full of carefree joy, and Michael’s heart swells. It’s only when Michael’s stomach rumbles again that they somehow manage to catch their breath as Alex points out that they really  _ should  _ eat.

They end up getting takeout.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued enthusiasm and for the comments thus far! Things are getting more...heated, and more emotional. Enjoy!

They fall into a comfortable pattern. Their lives are much too unpredictable to call it a routine, with photoshoots at all hours of the day and all days of the week, last-minute reshoots, exhibit and gallery openings at which Alex makes reluctant appearances, and schmoozing parties that Michael only sometimes manages to get out of. Still, they continue on in the comfortable expectation of a scene at least once a week. 

Today, when Michael arrives from a midday gallery opening that he was dragged along to by Isobel, all he can feel is a sense of relief the second he spots Alex. No more putting a facade; all he has to do is let go, and Alex will take care of him. 

“Hello, Michael,” Alex greets him warmly, which does little to hide his cat-like smile. 

“What are you so happy about?” Michael asks as he moves to his usual place on his knees. But Alex pats the couch next to him instead. Raising his eyebrows, Michael settles in beside him as Alex reaches for a magazine on the coffee table.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen yet, but the magazine issue with my photos is out,” he explains. “And they are  _ stunning. _ ”

“Well, yeah,” Michael says as he grabs the magazine from Alex. He hasn’t seen the photos yet – though Isobel probably did and gave her approval. “You took them.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” Alex is suddenly looking at him very, very intently, and Michael drops his eyes to the magazine. The photos are in fact stunning, some of them in black-and-white, some color, all exuding classical elegance but each one subtly screaming eroticism. “I mean it, Michael. You were  _ perfect,  _ and I couldn’t have done it with anyone else.”

Michael finally raises his eyes from the glossy spread to Alex’s still-intent gaze.

“You’re welcome, then,” he says, going for a lightness of tone in the face of the weight in Alex’s.

Alex reaches forward and runs a hand from the curve of his neck and over his chest. “You were so good for me, Michael. I thought today, I’d let you have whatever you want.”

Michael stares at him. “Whatever I want?”

“Within reason, of course.”

Michael’s mind runs through the possibilities, each coming faster and more vividly than the last. The appeal of their arrangement has always been the lack of necessity for him to decide, but there are still things that he’s wanted to try and had hoped Alex would decide to do. Things he’d never been able to ask for.

He slides onto his knees between Alex’s legs.

“Let me take care of you,” he asks. “The way you always take care of me.”

“Michael – “

“That counts as within reason, doesn’t it? I want to make you feel good.”

“As you wish,” Alex agrees.

He settles himself on the blanket that’s Michael’s usual spot, a cushion propping up part of his right leg and another beneath his head. He looks scrumptious as he puts a hand behind his head and parts his legs, and Michael dives between them.

He starts out with a long kiss, teasing at Alex’s mouth and biting at his lip. He moves to the curve of his shoulder and the hollow of his throat, just peeking out from above the buttons of his shirt. He kisses up the side of his neck and tugs at the ring in Alex’s ear, and lives for several moments inside the small, needy moan Alex makes. He kisses Alex’s hands, knuckle by knuckle, and sucks on each of his fingers; in particular, he laves the pad of Alex’s thumb with his tongue and lets Alex trace the curve of his lips with it.

Then he moves down, undoing Alex’s pants and pulling them down just far enough to reveal his cock, which springs out hard and ready. But first, Michael licks up the V of Alex’s pelvis, just barely visible under the hem of his shirt, before moving to the tip of his cock and taking his time sucking on the tip.

“Are you trying to edge me, Michael?” Alex’s voice comes from above him. “Because I can assure you, that won’t work out as intended.”

“Nah,” Michael says. “Just want to make sure I give your dick  _ all  _ the attention it deserves,” he says, then swallows it down. He’s gratified when it causes Alex to arch up with a cry.

It’s the most uninhibited Alex has ever been with him, and it makes for a better reward than anything else he could have imagined.

“I want to hear you,” Michael coaxes as he pulls off with a pop. “Will you let me have that?”

Alex seems to struggle with it for several moments, and Michael wonders if he’s gone too far. He waits until, finally, Alex gives a nod. “Whatever you want,” he repeats.

Michael takes that as permission to use every one of the extensive tricks he’s learned. He sucks at the tip; he licks up the side of Alex’s cock; he plays with his balls; he takes him into his mouth, swirling his tongue; he swallows him all the way down and hums, and the reverberations coax a particularly needy, perfect sound out of Alex. He forgets the entire world exists until there is nothing but him and Alex’s cock, the wiry hair at the base of his dick and the scent of sex and of  _ Alex.  _ There is nothing else that matters in the world right now except making Alex feel good.

“Michael, I’m – “ Alex warns, and Michael pulls off and finishes Alex with his hand. He catches the come on his face and chest, running a finger through it and tasting as Alex watches with a heated gaze. Alex’s eyes don’t move from him as he settles on the blanket besides him and swiftly brings himself off, placating his insistent erection that hasn’t gotten the memo that today is about  _ Alex,  _ not him.

…

Alex is in his usual spot when Michael arrives, sprawling on the couch, and Michael goes to him immediately. He moves to kneel, but Alex tugs him forward by the wrist and he takes the hint, clambering onto Alex’s lap.

“Hey,” he greets.

Alex’s fingers rub up and down his side. “Hey back,” he answers.

“I’m having a bit of a bad pain day today,” Alex confesses, “so I’m afraid you’ll have to do the heavy lifting today.”

“Do you want to reschedule?”

“No.” The word is firm and so ice-cold that it practically freezes the blood in his veins. “I wouldn’t reschedule this until I absolutely had to,” Alex adds more gently.

“Okay,” Michael agrees. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Well, first, I need you to shift your weight and keep some of it off my leg.” He helps Michael shift to the right and scoot back; Alex rests his hands on Michael’s thighs just as he flexes them, taking some of his own weight. He finds his hands landing on Alex’s chest for balance at first, and feels the firm muscle beneath the shirt stretched taut over them. Alex must work out often, Michael realizes as he thinks of all the weights he’s seen. He was a soldier once, and he’d picked Michael up easily their first time. Perhaps Alex could manhandle him, put Michael where he wants him without breaking a sweat – maybe Michael should bring that up with him – 

“Hey,” Alex interrupts, a hand grasping his chin and forcing Michael to meet his eyes. “Stay with me.” 

Michael nods, and Alex hums approvingly and begins to run his hands over Michael’s torso, exploring. Michael lets his eyes fall shut, his mind zeroing in on the pattern of Alex’s ministrations over his skin. He almost forgets what he’s here for, sinking down and down into sweet calm as Alex maps a body that is entirely his, until the pads of Alex’s thumbs begin to flick his nipples. 

His eyes open in surprise.

“There you are,” Alex says, as he continues to lavish attention on his nipples, pinching them between thumb and forefinger and twisting gently and even leaning forward to bite at them. Michael feels himself begin to harden, and it’s all he can do to stay still and keep his weight where Alex put it.

Alex shifts slightly, reaching over and plucking two tiny contraptions from the seat beside him. He holds them in an open palm, and Michael squints at the metallic circles with screws through them.

“Nipple clamps,” Alex explains.

“Oh.” They look painful, and he should say that, remind Alex that he’s not into pain, but Alex wants this. Alex is in charge, he should let Alex do what he wants to do. Especially today; Alex is having a bad day, and Michael should go along with –

“Hey.” Alex breaks into his thoughts. “They’re adjustable. They don’t have to be painful. Just an edge of it, like you mentioned. But we can forego them.”

Alex is looking at him intently. He’s waiting for an answer, Michael realizes. He wants to just agree mindlessly, but Alex has made an effort, so he makes himself meet him halfway.

“Okay,” he says. “I trust you.”

Alex’s face does something complicated, but it clears quickly, and he unscrews the first clamp, placing the nub of Michael’s hardened nipple inside the circle before tightening the screw. He barely feels it when the metal first touches him, but soon enough, it’s squeezing his nipple and he bites his lip at the sensation. It’s not unpleasant; almost how it’d felt when Alex had bitten at them. Then Alex tightens them another half-turn and he lets out a small hiss. He’s definitely on the edge of pain now; it’s present enough that he can’t simply ignore it, but not overpowering enough to distract him from everything else.

“All right?” Alex asks.

“Yeah,” he says, surprised. “Yeah.”

Alex nods, satisfied, and turns his attention to the other nipple. Michael watches his nimble fingers as they pull at the nub and tighten the screw. This time, he’s prepared for the sensation, and he waits eagerly for the moment he feels it just  _ enough. _

Alex surveys his handiwork heatedly.

“Perfect,” he declares after several moments, his voice low and thick, and Michael melts.

Next, he hands Michael the lube, meeting his gaze pointedly.

Michael doesn’t need any further instruction. He knows what to do next. Slicking up his fingers, he reaches behind himself and puts on a show for Alex. He’s never been particularly quiet, but now he feels especially on display, and he lets his sounds of pleasure fall easily from his lips as he prepares himself for Alex. The pressure on his nipples remains insistent, a reminder that he is _ owned _ , a knowledge that floods heat through his veins.

Funny, he thinks, how Alex doesn’t even have to touch him for Michael to know that he is thoroughly Alex’s. 

“Take me,” he finds himself begging. “Take me,” he whispers as Alex guides him to sink down on his cock. “I’m yours,” he swears as Alex stills him, fully impaled on his cock, their bodies flush, the metal biting into his nipples pressing insistently into their skin between them.

Alex just watches him with a heated gaze, head thrown back and gaze heavy-lidded. He looks thoroughly debauched upon his own throne, Michael his willing plaything.

At the press of Alex’s hand on his hips, he begins to move, slow at first, meaning to tease, but Alex won’t have any of that; he squeezes at Michael’s hips pointedly until his pace quickens into a frantic one, impaling himself on Alex’s cock each time, breath forced out of his lungs each time Alex sheathes himself fully.

He is Alex’s inside and out. The marks of Alex’s ownership glisten on his body, dainty yet insistent reminders that sparkle in the light; Alex fills him, the size of him stretching Michael until he feels like he couldn’t take anything more, except then Alex adds a finger alongside his dick and Michael growls, full to the brim. Yet he still wants more; he wants Alex to force himself inside until Michael doesn’t know where Alex ends and he begins, doesn’t care how much it might hurt as Alex does so as long as they are inseparable.

“Yours,” he whispers, and loses the rest of his mind. Everything after that is a haze. He thinks he keeps moving at Alex’s insistence, an instinctive obedience to Alex’s touch; he vaguely remembers Alex coming inside him, and he’s  _ pretty  _ sure the sound he hears is the he makes when his orgasm rips out of him and spatters over Alex.

He  _ definitely _ doesn’t remember the clamps coming off, but they must have, because the next thing he notices is that he’s curled up in his usual position, Alex’s hands in his hair, his ass as sore as his nipples.

He sighs contentedly and drifts off somewhere for a while. He doesn’t know how much time passes – for all he knows, it could be  _ hours _ , but there’s no shifting of the light to tell him that – but eventually, he blinks, the room around him suddenly crisp, and the haze around the edges of his vision starts to fill in with concrete details.

“Thank you,” he whispers once he finds his voice.

“I should thank  _ you.  _ You were perfect today, Michael,” Alex says reverently.

“I don’t just mean for making me feel good. I mean, thank you for making things go quiet.”

“Quiet?”

Michael sighs and searches for the words that he’s never needed to use with any other dom. “I have all this chaos going on in my head all the time,” he tries to explain. “The only thing that’s ever made it go still is music, and sometimes doing this. But it’s never gone this quiet until you.”

“You’re welcome,” Alex says, and he sounds like he knows the weight of those words.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is by far my favorite (and the longest!) chapter. A lot of emotions and vulnerability going on here, but also lots of sexytimes. This is what it's all been building up to- please enjoy! After this, there's only a short epilogue left.

Michael decides to treat his sister to lunch, because the sun is shining, birds are chirping, and he belongs to Alex Manes. It’s all because of Isobel, and Michael decides that a spa gift card won’t cut it this time; he takes her out to a fancy lunch at Vespertine.

He arrives slightly late and out of breath, struggling to park his truck on the crowded downtown streets. 

Well, that and he hadn’t been able to resist texting Alex to let him know that he could still  _ feel  _ him after their last time, a pleasant soreness that seeps into his bones and reminds him who he belongs to. 

Alex had sent back just one word:  _ Good.  _ Michael can just imagine the satisfied smirk on Alex’s face that goes with it, and it puts an extra spring in his step as he walks to Vespertine. 

When he arrives, he spots Isobel easily, stunning in a red dress, not a hair out of place as she sips the wine she’s already taken the liberty of ordering them both. 

“You look good,” she says by way of greeting as he settles in. 

“You too, Izzy.” A few years ago, she’d been nothing but storm clouds and rage following a messy divorce with from an unscrupulous and manipulative lawyer; then, she’d been even more ruthless than usual, practically ripping career opportunities out of her rivals’ hands with her teeth. These days, though, Michael’s happy to see, she’s looking much lighter, and yet, somehow, much sharper and more self-assured.

“So what’s got you practically glowing?” she asks after ordering several dishes that are much too organic and  _ green  _ for Michael’s liking. “Are you seeing someone?”

“Sort of,” he admits. She fixes him with a pointed gaze and raises an eyebrow. “Alex Manes,” he spills promptly.

“You’re dating  _ Alex Manes _ ?” she crows. “Mr. Look-At-Me-Aren’t-I-So-Mysterious-and-Secretive?”

“We’re not dating. We’re doing scenes together.” Izzy knows that he’s in the kink scene, but like the considerate sibling he is, Michael keeps the more explicit details from her.

“Huh. Well, as long as it makes you happy.”

“Yeah, he does,” Michael agrees. Isobel considers him over her wineglass before setting her perfectly-manicured hand (pale blue nails today, he notes absently) atop his. 

“Just be careful,” she cautions.

“Alex wouldn’t hurt me,” Michael interjects. “He’s careful, and he takes good care of me.”

“I don’t mean like that.” Isobel may not know the details of what he gets up to, but she understands enough about how the scene works; she’s been there for him when subdrop sent his mood careening wildly, lending a supporting shoulder until he stabilized again. 

“I just mean that you obviously care about him. He’s clearly making you happy. But it sounds like for him, this is just an arrangement. Not a relationship. I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“It feels like more than just an arrangement. It feels like we  _ connect,  _ you know? He just seems to know exactly what I need, every time, and I  _ get  _ him.”

Isobel bites her lip but tactfully doesn’t say anything more. They dig into their food, but silence doesn’t ever last long with Isobel.

“By the way,” she says in between bites of salad. “I took on that assistant of Alex’s as a client. Rosa. She’s got quite an impressive portfolio.”

“Really?” He’s delighted. Rosa has been interested in venturing into photography, and Michael had offered to speak to Isobel about representing her when Alex mentioned it.

“Yeah. She’s quite the hurricane, too. She might be a handful, but if she has Alex’s recommendation – “

“You  _ like  _ her,” Michael interrupts, because he knows that look on Izzy.

She stares him down. “We’ve only just met,” she points out, which is not a denial, Michael notes.

“If you say so,” Michael drawls, but doesn’t press.

Izzy shoots him a pointed look, but doesn’t entirely hide her smile.

…

He blames the light, free feeling of these moments that come  _ after  _ for the words that fall out of his mouth. His head rests in its place in Alex’s lap, Alex’s hands carding through his hair, and it feels safe and free and  _ home,  _ a sanctuary where he can confess, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Alex’s hand stills in his curls.

“I doubt it,” he says, which is absolutely not what Michael expected. He shifts onto his back to look up at Alex.

“What? Why?” he asks, flabbergasted.

“Well, for one, you’ve never actually seen me naked.”

“So?” He’s seen some of Alex’s chest, and is  _ very  _ familiar with his dick, but Alex never undressed fully during their scenes. Which Michael always thought was fucking hot, though he’s become pretty sure Alex’s reasons go beyond that. Clothes could be armor as easily as nakedness, he’s learned. He’s still pretty sure Alex is fucking hot, if the firm muscles he’s felt beneath Alex’s tight shirts and his past as a soldier are anything to go by. He’s even more certain that he’d hand Alex his soul on a platter regardless of what he found beneath his clothes. 

Alex sighs. He looks suddenly very sad and small.

“I’m missing a leg, Michael,” he says quietly.

Michael frowns. He’s still in that blissful fog of subspace, and it’s just not clicking. “Why would that matter?” he asks in confusion.

“It’s mattered in the past.” Alex’s voice is still soft and sad. “And it matters to me. Asking you to accept someone broken, when you could have someone whole – “

“You’re not just talking about your leg, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” Alex admits.

Michael sits up and tries to chase the fog from his head.

“Look,” he says. “If you don’t want more than what we have, that’s okay. I’ll respect that. But I like you. A lot. And it feels like we have something special. So if you do want something more, I think it’s something worth fighting for.”

Alex considers him for several seconds.

“I do want more,” he says finally. “So much more. But I’m not always the person I am in our scenes. I’m flawed and scared and self-conscious, Michael, and you don’t know that part of me.”

“I get it,” Michael says gently. “No one’s in control every minute of every day. And that’s okay.” He takes Alex’s hand in one of his. He debates kissing it, but decides it might be too much, with Alex like a skittish animal next to him. “You’re human, and I’d like to get to know that part of you too.”

“I’d like that too,” Alex agrees. “But we’ll have to renegotiate everything. Our boundaries, this” – he waves a hand at the evidence of their scene scattered around the room. “The power dynamic will have to completely change when we’re equals in a relationship – “

“Does that mean I can kiss you whenever I want?” Michael asks hopefully.

“Of course it does,” Alex answers, soft and fond.

Michael takes the opportunity to climb into Alex’s lap and straddle him. “Then maybe we can start with a probationary period, before we hammer out the details? Because I really want to kiss you right now.”

Alex laughs as he tugs him in for a kiss.

Renegotiating ends in the decision to put both kink and sex on the back burner. No more scenes until they’ve established a power dynamic in which Michael doesn’t treat every one of Alex’s words like an order. Michael knows it’s the best decision, the most prudent one, but he can’t help pouting as he agrees.

“There’s more to me than my dick,” Alex counters. “I thought you’d like the chance to appreciate the whole package.”

“Oh, I can appreciate your whole package, all right,” Michael retorts on instinct.

Alex raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Just for that, you’re buying me dinner.”

“You drive a hard bargain. It’s too bad I’m still learning how to say no to you.”

…..

“So why did you quit science?” Alex asks as they gaze at stars in the back of Michael’s truck. Izzy regularly wrinkles her nose at his choice of ride, insisting he can afford something much better, but this truck’s been  _ his  _ since he was old enough to have one. It’s a home of sorts, a part of him that the rest of the world doesn’t see. “You clearly love its possibilities.”

“I got fed up with dumbasses,” he admits. “Didn’t feel a whole lot like discovering possibilities when I spent my time correcting mistakes. And I kind of failed to acquire any self-consciousness about being naked when I should’ve. So then it just felt right to make money with my body and keep my brains for myself, ya know? It was liberating.”

Alex hums in understanding.

They lie next to each other in the dark, in perhaps the most chase embrace they’ve ever shared. He longs for more; he wants to make Alex feel good here, under the stars, in his first home. But Alex had wanted slow, had reasoned with him that they need slow, and he unquestionably trusts Alex.

But he does get to steal a kiss, soft and slow, a thing in itself rather than a prelude to others. After, Alex tucks his head into the crook of Michael’s shoulder. “You’re so warm,” he murmurs.

Michael pulls him close and pets his silky hair.

“Your own personal space heater,” Michael says as he kisses the top of Alex’s head.

He holds Alex tight and looks up at the stars and feels happiness swell like a balloon in his chest.

…..

“So I got a photoshoot offer in Paris,” Michael tells Alex over dinner as butterflies flutter in his stomach. Isobel just told him today, and although he’s hasn’t stopped doing photoshoots since he and Alex began their relationship, they’ve never taken him away from Alex. “With Kyle Valenti.”

Alex’s eyebrows rise. “Paris? He must really want you.”

“Well, I have you to thank for that. He saw the photos you did and decided he wanted me specifically, In Paris.”

“That’s amazing, Michael. Kyle is an excellent photographer.” Alex is all warmth and joy, and his eyes gleam with pride. Michael wonders why he worried. “How long do they want you for?”

“A week.”

“A week in Paris. That sounds lovely.”

“It’d be even lovelier with you,” he says. He knows Alex is all booked up, being famous and talented and amazing as he is, but he still wishes they could go together. Kiss under the twinkling lights and hold hands as they strolled along the riverbank and all the other romantic clichés that he desperately wants with Alex.

“When do you go?” Alex asks instead.

“Tomorrow.” It’s a short turnaround, and they’re goddamn lucky Michael wasn’t already booked, but they’d also offered a ridiculous amount of money.

Alex reaches for his hand across the table. “I’ll miss you,” he says. “But I’m happy for you. And I know you’ll be amazing.” He cocks his head. “What kind of photos should I look forward to admiring you in?”

“Naked ones. You know French people, they won’t arrest me for showing my ass in front of the Eiffel Tower,” he jokes.

“Mm,” Alex says noncommittally. “Shall we celebrate?” He gestures for the waiter and orders them another glass of wine before Michael can get a word in edgewise.

Michael drives Alex home after dinner. They’ve been working hard on the power dynamic between them, Michael’s been the one taking Alex out and picking him up. It’s strange to feel like Alex isn’t in charge, but it also feels good, to get to do things that make Alex happy. To bring a smile to his face as he catches sight of a dive-y grilled cheese place or discovers the beer and blankets in the back of Michael’s truck.

And he gets to walk Alex to the door and kiss him goodnight, like they’re in high school and there’s overbearing parents behind the door that are watching in case he tries anything  _ more.  _ That part is novel and exciting too.

Tonight, though, Alex seems more closed off than usual; he’s quiet on the drive back and as they get out of the car to walk to his door.

“Hey,” he says softly as Alex turns to face him in front of the door. “What’s wrong? Is it Paris?”

Alex sighs. “I just keep imagining you, gone for a week. Naked and kneeling as another man tells you what to do,” he admits with obvious reluctance. “And I’d never tell you not to go. You know your job has never been an issue. I’d  _ never  _ ask you to give it up for me. But I can’t help feeling – “

“Jealous?” It’s actually sort of flattering, the way Alex feels about him like that.

“Possessive,” Alex corrects. “I’m not a jealous man, Michael – “

“Hey,” Michael interrupts. “I’m yours. You know that, right?”

“I know. And I know you’ll be faithful. But I remember how we met and I imagine you doing  _ that  _ with someone else. And then I wonder if he can give you something I can’t.” He takes a calming breath. “I want you to be  _ mine,  _ Michael, but sometimes I fear I have no right to it, because maybe someone like Kyle could give you  _ more. _ ”

Michael fixes him with an incredulous gaze.

“Alex, no one else can give me what you can,” he says. “No one’s ever taken me down like you, or given me quiet. No one’s challenged me like you or pushed my boundaries in just the right way.” He cradles Alex’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing over his cheeks, where he discovers the trail of a tear. “And I don’t feel about anyone the way I feel about you.”

Alex exhales shakily. “Okay,” he agrees. “Okay.”

Michael’s suddenly hit with inspiration. “Hey,” he says. “How about, when I get back, I show just how much I’m yours? Anything you want, you can have it,” he offers.

“Anything?”

“I’m yours,” Michael confirms.

Alex smiles as the moonlight glints on the trails of his tears. Michael lets him draw him in and seal that promise with a kiss. 

“Come by tomorrow, to say goodbye?” he says as he heads to his truck. Alex nods.

…

“Come in!” he calls when he hears a knock on his door as he’s finishing packing. He’s expecting Alex, but instead, six feet of elegant blonde in heels enters his apartment.

“Izzy,” he greets, delighted. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d see you off before your big trip,” she says innocently. Too innocently. Michael raises an eyebrow.

Isobel perches on the edge of the couch and considers her perfectly manicured nails. Red today, Michael notes. Not her usual color.

“Alex came to see me today,” she begins with a studied insouciance.

“What? Why?”

“Well, I  _ am  _ your sister. He wanted to make sure he was doing right by you. He seemed quite worried that he wasn’t, actually.”

“He could’ve just asked me,” Michael says, trying not to feel wounded. “I’d have told him I’m happy.”

“I know you would’ve. But I think he wanted a perspective from someone who knows you but whose judgement isn’t …clouded by emotion.” 

He straightens up from where he’s zipping up his suitcase and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“And?” he demands.

“Relax, Michael, it isn’t anything  _ bad.  _ He just asked me, as your sister, if I think you’re happy.”

“You know I am.”

“And that’s what I said.” She smiles at him. “I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time, if ever. I think he’s good for you, and I told him that.”

“Thanks, Iz.”

“And then he asked me to tell him if he ever hurts you and you don’t let him know. I guess he’s figured out by now how you like to hide that.” 

Michael sighs. “I’m working on it, Iz.” 

“I know,” she agrees. “I also told him that if he breaks your heart, I’ll make sure he never gets a job in this industry again.” 

Michael shakes his head and chuckles. “And what did he say to that?” 

“He thanked me for looking out for you, actually. And then he told me that if I ever hurt Rosa, he’d do the same to me.” 

“Oh, so there  _ is  _ something between you and Rosa,” Michael says, delighted. 

Isobel’s smile turns pleased. “Maybe,” she responds laconically. 

“Should we start planning a double date, then?” 

To his surprise, she doesn’t shoot down the idea immediately. “Come back from Paris and we’ll discuss it,” she says, which is about as much encouragement as he’s ever going to get. 

He pulls her into a hug before she leaves. “Thanks, Izzy,” he says. “For looking out for me.” 

“Always.” She bids him farewell with a kiss on the cheek and makes her way out of his cluttered living room. 

Alex shows up just as Isobel steps out; they greet each other, cordial but still reserved. Then, as Isobel heads down, Alex shuts the door and steals half-a dozen kisses.

He frowns at Michael when he pulls away.

“What?” Michael asks.

“Been kissing women, Guerin?”

“I wasn’t – Izzy gave me a kiss – it was just on the cheek,” he sputters defensively as his hand flies to his cheek. Izzy  _ had  _ been wearing a particularly bright shade of red today, he realizes.

Alex just laughs.

“It’s all right, Michael. I don’t doubt you. Though you  _ are  _ adorable when you’re flustered.”

“Well,  _ you  _ seem in a good mood,” Michael says.

“Yes. I’ve had time to put things into perspective. And I had an idea.” He pauses. “A rather good idea, if I do say so myself.”

“Oh?” Michael asks with a raised eyebrow, intrigued.

“Remember when you said I could have anything once you got back?” he asks conspiratorially.

“Yeah…” he agrees, wondering where this is going.

“What if I want something while you’re gone instead of when you’re back?”

_ That _ piques his interest.

“What?” he asks for form’s sake, though it doesn’t really matter what it is. He already knows he’ll give it.

Alex pulls him in for a swift kiss. “Don’t come until you get back,” he whispers against Michael’s lips. “In fact, don’t even touch yourself.”

Michael pulls back to look at Alex. He’s holding himself tall, calm and assured, but Michael can feel the uncertainty in the body beneath his hands.

“As you wish,” he agrees, and feels the weight lift off Alex’s body.

Alex makes their final kiss long and deep. It’s slow at first, and then Alex begins to devour him, pressing close, stealing his breath. He cedes to Alex’s lips and his tongue as arousal curls in his belly, and he wonders absently if Alex wants a quickie before he leaves for a week, and he’s on board with that, his dick beginning to harden in agreement, and then Alex pulls away.

Michael whines in protest.

“You promised, Michael,” Alex says with a twinkle in his eyes.

_ Fuck. _

The first couple of days are bearable. He’s certainly gone longer without touching himself when he’s been particularly busy and distracted, and the shoots take up a good portion of the day. But he’s also naked and on his knees as a photographer barks accented orders at him, and he can’t help wishing it was Alex, and then he wants to pretend it’s Alex, and by the time he gets back to his hotel his body aches for Alex. He longs to peel his clothes off and touch himself and imagine it’s Alex giving the orders, Alex standing over him and watching, Alex’s fingers inside him.

He rolls over, planting his face in the pillow and humping the bed desperately, but it’s so very much not enough that he forces himself to get up and take a cold shower. The freezing water is a shock, but it still takes him a few minutes of sucking in shaky breaths before he thinks he can walk around without embarrassing himself.

He calls Alex on the third day.

“I can’t, Alex,” he says without preamble. “I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t not touch myself when I do.  _ Please,  _ Alex.”

He hears Alex’s slight intake of breath and knows his words have had an effect.

“Would you like to touch yourself?” Alex asks lightly, like they’re discussing lunch.

“Yes,” he answers, because hasn’t he just  _ said  _ that?

“You have my permission, then.”

Michael doesn’t think too hard about it. He thinks, in the back of his mind, that his is much too easy, but he’s already half-hard just from Alex’s voice, self-assured as ever, telling him that he has  _ permission.  _ He barely has the presence of mind to put Alex on speakerphone before he reaches for himself, teasing the tip with his thumb, stroking himself slowly. He hardens almost immediately.

“Tell me what you’re doing to yourself, Guerin.”

He complies, and Alex intersperses spoken praise with hums of approval as he painstakingly describes the slow, teasing touches, followed by slow strokes that eventually speed up. 

“I’m close. I’m so close, Alex, and all I can think about is your hands – “

“Don’t come,” Alex says and Michael freezes.

“What? Alex, you said – “

“I said you could touch yourself. I didn’t say you could come.”

He’s sure the people in the room next door hear the sound he makes.

“Fuck, Alex,” he says. His hand finds his dick again, and he struggles to keep his movements slow. It would be so, so easy to speed up, to bring himself to climax, and he knows he’s playing a dangerous game where his body might make a decision for him. “I’m so hard, and so close, and every time I try to stop I remember the first time, and it makes me even harder and I  _ can’t,  _ Alex. Please. Please let me come.”

There’s silence for several seconds, and Michael holds his breath and wonders if he’s gone too far.

“What do you want, Guerin?” The question is so unexpected that Michael stills. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to breath, slow and deep, the way Alex had guided him to that first time. “You’re begging me, and I don’t know whether to let you or not.” They’re both silent for several seconds as Alex seems to struggle with words. “I know you’ll do anything I tell you, and sometimes I don’t know how much to ask of you. Like now. Are you begging me because you think I’ll let you, or because you know I won’t?”

“I don’t know,” Michael confesses. “I wasn’t really thinking about it. I just thought, either you let me come, which’ll feel good, or you tell me not to, and it’s be  _ agony,  _ but in the end it’ll feel so good. It’s a win-win.”  _ Sorta,  _ he thinks, considering the potential the torture of waiting another four days, and a sudden flash of inspiration strikes. “Or…how would you punish me, if I didn’t do what you said?”

Alex has never punished him before. Michael’s never give him a reason to, and it’s never been anything they’ve even discussed. Although Michael’s certain that Alex can come up with something torturous without laying a finger on him.

Now, Alex is silent for a few seconds, and Michael wonders whether he was wrong to bring punishment into this. Maybe the fact that neither of them like involving pain should have been a clue to keep his mouth shut.

“I prefer the carrot rather than the stick,” Alex says finally. “I’m not going to punish you if you  _ do… _ but I had a reward in mind, if you don’t.”

“What kind of reward?”

“I thought…” Alex clearly hesitates. “I thought I’d let you see me naked.”

It punches the air out of him.

“Fuck, Alex,” he says. “I won’t even touch myself, not until I’m back, I  _ swear. _ ”

His dick reminds him it might be easier said than done; the thought of seeing Alex naked sends another wave of arousal through him, reminding him that he’s balancing precariously on the edge of a cliff. 

“You really want to get into my pants, huh, Guerin?”

“I really want to get your pants  _ off, _ ” he corrects. “And then you. Preferably in that order.”

“Deal.” Alex pauses, then adds. “I’m trusting you, Michael.”

“I won’t let you down.”

“Good night, Michael.”

“Bye, Alex.”

The hotel should give him a discount for the money he saves them on the hot water bill, he thinks as he gets into the shower again. Maybe at this rate he could take up ice hole swimming. 

He groans and rubs a hand over his face.

This whole experience is complete torture, and he’s never been happier.

When Michael flies back four days later, Alex takes him on a date, because Alex is never going to stop being a tease. It’s one of the things Michael loves about him, even when it’s driving him crazy or making his brain leak out his ears with want. It’s late by the time they get back to Alex’s apartment and stumble into the bedroom, making up for a week of not kissing each other.

“God, I missed you,” Michael murmurs against the skin of Alex’s neck – the part of it he can reach above his collar, at least.

“I missed you too,” Alex says, and promptly begins to divest Michael of his clothes. Michael helps, and it’s only seconds later that things are back to their usual state and he’s naked in front of a clothed Alex. Then Alex pushes him backwards onto the bed and he sprawls gracelessly, fully hard and gazing at Alex with lust-filled eyes.

Alex’s hands go up to the buttons of his shirt and hesitate. Michael gets on his knees and settles at the edge of the bed.

“Let me?” he asks.

Alex nods, stepping closer.

Michael gives him a brief kiss before undoing the buttons one by one. Alex stays statue-still as Michael parts the folds of the fabric, leaning in to mouth at the crook of shoulder and neck that he’s been dreaming about for months, and Alex exhales shakily as Michael leaves kisses on that delicate curve. He pushes the shirt off Alex’s shoulders, letting it drop to the ground, and turns his attention to the expanse of skin.

Alex has the physique of a soldier, all firm muscle. There are also scars, one that looks like a gunshot wound, another that might be a knife, and Alex curls in on himself as Michael’s eyes fall to them.

He also has a silver stud in his right nipple to match the ring in his ear.

Michael doesn’t even think; he  _ has  _ to lean forward and tug on it with his teeth, and is satisfied when it pulls a sound from Alex. He sucks it into his mouth, toying with the metal on his tongue as his hands trace over the muscles of Alex’s chest and the flat, firm planes of his stomach.

It’s Alex turn to gaze at him with dark, heavy-lidded eyes, and Michael fills with awe at how vulnerable Alex looks before him.

He reaches for Alex’s pants, undoing the buckle before Alex takes over, dropping pants and underwear and stepping out of them. He stands before Michael, fully naked. Michael’s eyes fall to his dick – hard – and he licks his lips. Then his gaze falls lower, over Alex’s strong thighs, and down to the prosthetic that replaces the bottom of his right leg. He wonders distantly at the mechanism of it before lust chases that thought away and he trails his eyes back up Alex’s body appreciatively. He wants to say something, tell Alex how beautiful he is, but realizes that the naked lust in his face will speak more than any words he could offer.

“I seem to recall you promising I’d get to get both you and your pants off,” he says instead in an attempt to lighten some of the  _ weight  _ of the moment. “Not in that order,” he adds.

He itches to touch every part of Alex’s skin, wants to plant kisses on every inch of his body, and feels suddenly strangely unbalanced, unsure if he needs permission, if he should take initiative or let Alex take the lead as always.  _ How do you want me?  _ He wants to ask, his instinctive refrain whenever he’s naked before Alex. Instead, he touches himself slowly, gazing up at Alex through his lashes. An invitation, or a suggestion.

And something does seem to lighten in Alex, some of the weight on his shoulders dissipating.

“Lie back,” Alex instructs, and Michael does, spreading his legs instinctively for Alex to settle between them.

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Guerin,” Alex tells him.

Michael opens his mouth to retort, then promptly shuts it when nothing comes out. He watches as Alex acquires lube, climbs on top, graceful despite the prosthetic, and straddles him. Then his mouth falls open again as Alex reaches behind himself to start opening himself up.

“Oh my god,” he breathes. “You’re really gonna – “

Alex gives him the self-assured smirk that Michael has come to love. Some of his usual confidence seems to have returned, and Michael feels some small amount of smugness.  _ He  _ did that.

Then he promptly forgets how to breathe as Alex begins to work himself open, and while Michael can’t see his fingers, he  _ can  _ see Alex’s face, and the way his own touch is clearly affecting him. He watches, rapt, as Alex lets down his walls and lets Michael  _ see  _ his need, his want, his desire.

He reaches tentatively for Alex, placing hands on his thighs when they’re not chased away. He relishes the strength of the muscles flexing between his thighs, the taut stretch of Alex’s stomach as stretches to reach himself with his fingers. He thinks he might be happy to lie here forever and just watch Alex put on a show atop him, but soon enough, Alex deems himself ready. Readjusting his weight, he lines himself up and sinks down onto Michael, and it’s all Michael can do to keep himself still.

“ _ Alex, _ ” he breathes reverently as his cock settles inside Alex, who gives himself mere seconds to adjust before setting up a frantic, punishing pace. It feels right, it feels  _ perfect,  _ after the denial of the past week, of the past several weeks of denying each other everything but kisses.

He doesn’t last long, not with how he’s  _ needed  _ this past week, and his orgasm is close to the sweetest thing in the world, second only to the look on Alex’s face as Michael falls apart beneath him. He clings to Alex’s hips for purchase as he fills him for the first time, his head thrown back and a cry dragged from his throat.

After, Alex sits on the edge of the bed to take off his prosthetic. The set of his shoulders is what Michael has come to recognize as Alex’s “into battle” posture, and he breathes deeply before pulling it off. Michael takes it from him gently, setting it in a chair by the bed. Then he kneels at Alex’s feet, kissing the edge of the stump. He tries to keep the horror from his face – horror at how much Alex has lost, horror at how much he hates himself for what was done for him, horror for the reaction he expected from Michael.

Alex, he notices, stays very, very still.

He brushes his fingers over the stump as he kisses farther up Alex’s leg, to the inside of Alex’s thigh – a sensitive spot, he realizes when Alex shivers, and it is so precious, so intimate, discovering that tiny part of Alex where he loses some small bit of control. 

He suddenly, desperately needs to reassure Alex that he is  _ loved. _

“I was wrong, when I said I was falling in love with you,” he blurts out.

He realizes what he’s said when Alex’s face shutters and he immediately starts to pulls away. Michael catches his hand- a light press, so that Alex can get away if he wants to - but Alex, for some reason, stays. Michael realizes as Alex faces him that he’s steeling himself, his shields swiftly thrown up as prepares for a blow he refuses to flee from. 

“I meant that I’m not falling in love with you because I’m already in love with you,” he rushes to explain.

Alex exhales shakily and sags where he’s sitting. Michael rises to his knees and hurries to pull Alex flush against him. “Shit, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking and that came out all wrong. I didn’t mean to do that to you.” He holds Alex tight, curling one hand protectively over the back of his head as Alex leans against him. “I love you,” he murmurs in Alex’s ear. “I love you, and I’m yours.”

This time, when they press against each other, they’re both naked, and the novel feeling of skin-on-skin sends sparks through him, little ones, until they build up and he has to turn their embrace in a kiss. He tangles his hands in Alex’s silky hair and tries to either devour him or lose himself or maybe both at the same time, while Alex clings to him.

“I love you too,” Alex whispers, like he’s revealing some great secret of the universe.


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and we're finished! Thank you all for the support throughout this fic, and for all your comments! They have been a pleasure to read and respond to, and it brings me great joy to know that y'all are reading between the lines and analyzing and interpreting. It's a gift for any writer.

“So, how do you want me?” Alex asks.

Golden light dapples the clearing in the woods they’ve found, the dandelions scattered throughout the grass echoing it. Michael fiddles with the dials of his DSLR, taking in the angles of the light and shadow, calculating.

When he’d first started modelling, he’d played around with photography, figuring he should know what it was like to be on the other side of the camera. His talent hardly rivals Alex’s, but he at least has some idea of what he’s doing, and Alex has agreed to play the role of the obliging boyfriend. He’s dressed for the part in black pants and a white shirt, liberally unbuttoned. He’s foregone shoes, too, though the tall grass hides the prosthetic where his right foot should be.

“By that tree,” Michael instructs. “Lean against it and hug it from the side. Caress it.”

Alex gives him a disbelieving look.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Michael says defensively. “You  _ know  _ I’m not good at this part like you are.” Which is a fucking understatement; he can’t even begin to imagine how to order someone around the way Alex does.

Alex’s look turns fond and he obliges, splaying his long fingers over the bark as he leans his head against the trunk. He seems to glow, with the light behind him, ethereal and angelic.

Michael tilts his head and considers him. “Needs a finishing touch,” he concludes. He strides purposefully towards Alex and kissing him, biting at his lips until they’re red and kiss-swollen. Laughing, Alex lets himself be kissed breathless. 

“Perfect,” Michael says as he surveys his handiwork.

He steps back, and the clearing fills with the sound of the shutter clicking.

“You know,” Michael says as he moves around to catch the play of sun and shadow on Alex’s face, “when I first met you, I didn’t think you were human.”

“What?”

“You looked like one of the faery folk come to walk amongst us mortals and steal away our souls,” Michael explains.

Alex cocks his head, and the soft shade of the tree leaves falls over the side of his face with devastating beauty. “Well, you stole away mine instead. And my heart with it.” 

Michael pauses, the camera suddenly all but forgotten. Alex looks much too sinful (which is really Michael’s own fault; he’d literally set it up that way) as he casually leans against the tree, and Michael just has to kiss him again. He pulls Alex in close by the belt loops, then lets his hands tangle in Alex’s hair until the tufts of it stick up every which way.

“Michael,” Alex chides in between peals of laughter. “Michael, you’ll mess up my hair.”

“It adds character.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Alex mutters, but makes no move to flatten his sex hair.

Michael smiles and pulls his hands out of the belt loops, resting them at the V of Alex’s button-up shirt. He meets Alex’s eyes, tentatively, and a moment later, comprehension dawns on Alex’s face. 

“For my eyes only,” Michael reassures.

Alex nods and Michael unbuttons the shirt and parts its folds while catching Alex’s lips in another kiss.

“If you keep going, this photoshoot is going to turn outright pornographic,” Alex protests as Michael tries to bite at his lip.

“I seem to recall you didn’t have a problem with that last time,” Michael retorts. 

Alex opens his mouth, retort on the tip of his tongue, but then seems to find none. Michael smirks.

“Go over there,” he instructs instead, pointing to the tall grass on the other side of the clearing. “Part it with your hands, like you’re coming out of it to surprise me.”

Alex complies with infinite patience, and Michael photographs him in between the tall stalks of grass, looking entirely like the ethereal being he’d glimpsed at their first meeting. Then, he plops down on the grass. At this angle, the sun haloes Alex’s head, and the lens peeks through the tall grass to capture his image. The result is unstudied and organic, and Michael thinks rather proudly Alex would be impressed with the result.

Finally, he tugs Alex to the ground beside him and rolls over him.

“If you wanted to have sex in the forest, you could’ve just asked,” Alex protests when Michael can’t resist tugging at the hoop in his ear with his teeth. After all, it’s  _ there,  _ and how is Michael supposed to resist it when it’s there solely to seduce him?

“This way is more fun,” he says, unapologetic.

He pulls away just as Alex arches up to catch his lips in a kiss and smirks when Alex is left wanting. He rises to stand above Alex, capturing his moment of desperation. The golden dandelions replace the sun as the halo around Alex’s head, while his unbuttoned white shirt forms a stark contrast with his golden skin. His nipple piercing glints in the sun, and when Alex turns his head to the side, his blushing face looks both innocent and seductive among the flowers.

“Beautiful,” Michael breathes without even realizing it.

Alex gets bolder at that, batting his eyelashes as he runs a hand through his hair, letting his tongue peek out, tracing his fingers over his chest. The result is utterly sinful, and Michael’s camera is swiftly abandoned in favor of crawling atop Alex once again.

“Took you long enough,” Alex mutters as Michael latches on to his neck to leave swiftly reddening marks.

“Didn’t realize you were keeping time,” Michael retorts as bites at Alex’s earlobe. 

“Mmm. Didn’t you tell me once it was all relative?”

Instead of answering, Michael trails his kisses down Alex’s chest to the ring in his nipple, pulling at it with his teeth while his thumb flicks over the other nipple. Alex keens beautifully beneath him, unrestrained in the seclusion of the woods.

“That’s it,” Michael coaxes. “Let go for me.”

Alex does, and no one but the sky above them hears his moans of abandon as Michael takes him into his mouth; no one but the trees hears the needy whimpers as Michael teases his hole; only the wind that caresses their hair catches the gasps that fall from Alex’s mouth as Michael sinks down onto him. The grass listens as they murmur words of love and praise while their bodies move against each other, Alex’s hands on Michael’s hips and Michael’s splayed on Alex’s chest. When the rain clouds roll in, they catch the unfettered sound of pleasure Michael makes as Alex comes within him, followed by the smaller one of his own climax.

When the rain falls, it washes them both clean of their lovemaking as the drink in its drops, then devour each other with wet kisses. 


End file.
